


Progression from Dark to Light

by Sherlyjohn



Series: Who Mourns for the Living [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Eating Disorders, Feeling Weak, Feelings of Inadequacy, Force-Feeding, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Not Eating, Panic Attacks, Sad with a Happy Ending, Starvation, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Feels, mental institute, mentally ill, poor steve, sad Steve, sam and natasha are good bros, this is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7316647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlyjohn/pseuds/Sherlyjohn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who causes Steve Rogers to hit rock bottom and who helps him get out of it- the answer to both of these is Bucky Barnes. (In which something happens to Bucky and Steve blames himself- with a happy ending.) </p>
<p>This is a continuation of the Who Mourns for the Living series, but can be read alone. </p>
<p>**Kudos challenge (see notes for details) still exists for this story- and thanks for hitting 50 on my last story- I will be out with a bonus scene very soon!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Progression from Dark to Light

**Author's Note:**

> Note the tags: Trigger Warnings for Eating Disorders, Panic Attacks, and Mental Instability. 
> 
> **Please note I'm doing a Kudos Challenge-of-sorts with this series. When any parts of this series reaches 50 kudos or more, I will write a bonus scene, tacked on to the end of the story. It will be a part of the story that either contains fluff or smut, or whatever pleases the audience the most.
> 
> If any story gets to 100 kudos or more, you can write suggestions in the comment box with story ideas/prompts for the next part in this series. I will then choose one idea and write it based on that prompt!  
> So tell your friends and I'll do the rest.
> 
> Thanks for being the amazing! And enjoy!

The sun stretched, its tendrils of light reaching into the city, penetrating a slight fog that clung to the tops of buildings, blanketing the occupants below. Steve Rogers leaned against the cool railing and tasted the morning air on his tongue. The city awoke below him, as the sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange. Steve watched the progression from dark to light as night disappeared into day, the dark slipping away. 

A cold metal hand wrapped around his waist and Steve let out a contented sigh, glancing behind him to see Bucky, eyes bright in the early morning sun, smiling at him. He pulled Steve close and pressed a feather light kiss to his nose. Steve smirked and his arm snaked around Bucky’s own waist, linking them. 

Bucky’s flesh hand came up gently to Steve’s neck, fingers ghosting across a faded scar. 

Steve watched every line on Bucky’s face, every emotion that was etched into it. 

He felt the sudden urge to sketch him. To capture those emotions, however sad, because they were so plain on his face. 

Bucky had given Steve the gift of vulnerability and he thought it was the most beautiful thing he could give. The trust, the love, and the willingness to let his guard down in front of him. 

Bucky’s flesh hand tracked Steve’s veins up to his chin and then caressed his cheek with such gentleness. He pulled Steve in for a kiss. Their lips met, a slight breeze swaying around him, blowing strands of Bucky’s raven hair against Steve’s cheeks. He didn’t mind, but merely carded his own hand though Bucky’s hair and pulling him, if possible, closer. 

The morning air smelled sweet and promised rain later as the two broke apart, foreheads coming to rest against one another, breathing in each other’s scent and the dawn. 

“Good morning.” Steve hummed.

“To you too.” Bucky replied. 

They detached from one another and elected to head inside, they did after all, have appointments to keep.

They came back into the tower from the balcony and found Sam on his phone at the table. A cup of steaming coffee lay beside him and a newspaper crinkled slightly in his grip, muttering into the phone, 

“Yeah Nat, alright. I’ll see if he’ll be willing to talk to Grissner.” He spotted Steve and Bucky , “I’ll talk to you later.” he hung up.

“Morning you two.” Sam greeted them with a nod and a guarded expression.

“Hey Falcon.” Bucky replied, heading to the toaster. Steve poured the rest of the coffee from the pot into a mug and proceeded to down it, at his usual quick pace. He glanced over Sam’s shoulder at the paper he was reading. 

“We make the front page again?” 

“Yep.” Sam replied, “It was a bit of a controversy though, with Deadpool being there. He’s not a very lovable hero in New York right now, with the literal trail of bodies he left on that highway.”  

Steve grunted in response, shoving  the piece of toast Bucky had handed him into his mouth.

“Okay,” Sam began, after they had finished eating, “Who’s first?” 

Bucky looked imploringly at Steve and Steve sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Guess that’s me.” 

Bucky smirked into his own coffee mug and waved as Sam stood up and led Steve out of the room. 

Tony had commandeered a conference room off the hall from the rec room and kitchen to become Sam’s therapist office. After the incident at the hospital two weeks ago, with both Bucky and Steve still healing, Sam thought it be best to have a closed area for discussion. The room was even JARVIS proof, he was accessible for emergencies, but he could not hear the discussion that went on in the room unless a button was pushed. 

Both Steve and Bucky had refused outright to see any therapist, SHIELD or otherwise, so Sam had offered up his services as a VA counselor and they had begrudgingly accepted, participating in three sessions a week, each. 

Steve would had flat out refused had it not been for Tony’s ultimatum, that Bucky couldn’t live in the tower unless he, and Steve, got counseling and Bucky worked through his “crazy homicidal tendencies” as Tony called them. 

  


So the conference room now, instead of a table and chairs, held two cushioned chairs, a sofa, a hot water boiler for tea, a mahogany desk where Sam kept his notes and files, and even a trickling fountain sat in the corner. Tony wanted it to be as “feng shui" as possible. 

Steve took the couch while Sam sat in the chair opposite, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his lap. 

“So Cap, what’s up?” 

  


*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

  


Bucky took to the training room when Steve was in session, not wanting to think about what Steve and Sam could be talking about. Or more accurately,  _ who _ they could be talking about. He knew that he was the hot topic in those sessions, since he was the cause of Steve, and himself, having to take them at all. It brought hot guilt to his stomach and he didn’t want to think that he was the cause of Steve’s suffering. 

Bucky usually beat one of the punching bags that Steve often favoured. Or if Natasha was there, he would spar with her. They made a good match, having both trained from the Red Room. Natasha, however, was at a new SHIELD bunker meeting with a group of SHIELD agents including Director Coulson,

When he wasn’t training he would sometimes do research, with Tony or Natasha’s help, to try and track down the man who had triggered his relapse in the hospital. He was posing as a SHIELD doctor but Bucky had barely been able to make out his face due to the surgical mask he wore. It had happened so fast that smaller details were harder to recall.

But now, Bucky was left alone, beating the hell out of a punching bag in front of him. 

With each hit, he tried to drown out the mantra in his head;  _ my fault my fault my fault.  _ To no avail, only furthering his aggravation. He thought he would go mad from the strain of it. The constant images in his mind, the toxic memories of what Hydra had put him through, the times before he fell into their grasp, where he would hold Steve close and listen to his rattling breaths, hoping they wouldn't be his last. All of these images plagued his mind and shattered his composure. He felt like screaming or breaking something or feeling nothing at all. Anything to stop the horrors flooding his mind. 

Bucky punched the bag with his metal hand and began ripping it to shreds, pulling it apart until it barely hung from the chain, turned inside out like a grotesque corpse.

Bucky heaved in great breaths and sank to the wall opposite the punching bag, sourly admiring his work.

He clenched and unclenched his metal hand, feeling the electronic pulse near his shoulder where skin moulded into machine. 

He could remain calm when he wanted. He could practice staying emotionless and cool around the rest of the team. But when he was with Steve… he could actually let his guard down. Not enough to become a blubbering mess in front of Captain America, but just enough to show Steve he cared. 

“JARVIS.” Bucky called to the AI, cursing his voice for shaking. 

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes.” 

“Don’t…” Bucky gritted his teeth, “call me that. Just… just call me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky. What can I help you with?” 

“Tell Steve I’m going out, will ya? Tell him not to worry, but just gotta get some air.” 

“Of course. I will inform him when he is out of his session.” 

Bucky nodded cleared the ruined punching bag, tossing it in the trash and telling JARVIS to let Tony know that he would get another one.

“Not to worry, Mr. Barnes. Captain Rogers is prone to destroying them so Mr. Stark buys plenty.” 

Bucky grunted in response and left the room, throwing on a jacket to cover his arm and  heading down to the garage. He took Steve’s motorbike. Steve had told him he could use it whenever. 

He climbed on and kicked the engine to life. It roared as he left the tower, speeding down the street. He drove with no particular destination in mind, taking turns here and there until something caught his eye. 

He stopped a few blocks from Stark Tower, pulling his bike to park beside towering buildings. He gazed up at a smaller building nestled between two banks and his heart gave a lurch. A faded sign on the front read  _ JACK DEMPSEY’S.  _ A memory flashed through his mind, almost painfully clear. 

_ “Ya sure, Buck?” Steve asked, glancing up at him when they got out of the cab, “this’ll be our whole paycheck.” _

_ “‘Course I’m sure.” Bucky replied, “S’my last night before I take off. I gotta take my best man out for dinner.” _

_ Something crossed Steve’s face, like he was stealing himself to say something, but thought better of it. He closed his mouth and nodded, a small smile creeping up his cheeks. _

_ “But we couldda gone anywhere in Brooklyn. That cab ride nearly cost you all you’ve got!” _

_ “And I don’t mind.” Bucky reminded him, “I wanna take you someplace nice. So we’re going here.”  _

_ Steve sighed but did not respond. _

_ “Now, remember. Don’t eat any nuts, or your throat will close up again.” _

_ Steve rolled his eyes and they headed inside, Bucky’s large hand on the small of Steve’s back.  _

Bucky blinked at the memory, startled at how vivid it seemed. The restaurant had turned into something else, a new sign hanging below the old one. Bucky paused, a part of him wanting to enter, another part wanting to turn the opposite direction and flee. He remembered that last night with Steve before he went off to war, after the Stark Expo, he’d taken Steve to a nice dinner. It was his chance to say goodbye. That night they merely laid beside one another, clutching each other close and breathing in their scents.     __

Bucky closed his eyes and stepped back from the street, hoping back on the bike and taking off once more.

*_*_*_*_*_*

  


Steve’s feet carried him to the gym, opening the doors to find Clint lifting weights in the corner. Steve nodded to him and Clint smiled back. 

“Captain Rogers,” JARVIS’ voice filtered in, “I have been told to inform you after your session that Bucky went out for a while.” 

“He did? Is he alright?”

“I believe so, sir. He told me to tell you not to worry.”

Steve nodded, “Since when do you call him Bucky, JARVIS?”

“He requested that I do, Captain.” 

Steve shrugged and came over to a long bar and began a workout, doing chin-ups then heading to another bench to grab the largest weights, sticking them onto a bar. 

“Ah c’mon Cap, you have to do that with me in the room?” Clint teased, setting down his reasonably smaller weights and shaking his head.

Steve grinned, “What? Can’t keep up?”

“Barton, what are you lifting, 20 pounders?” Came a teasing voice from the door. 

Steve and Clint looked up to see Bucky entering the room, wearing a sly smirk. 

“Hey ya Buck.” Steve greeted as Bucky sat beside him on the bench, scooting Steve over so as to try out Steve’s weights.  

“C’mon Steve, I could lift this with one hand.” Bucky complained, lifting the massive weights over his head with his metal arm. 

Clint rolled his eyes and stood up, “I think I’m gonna go shoot some targets, get some of my masculinity back.” 

Steve chuckled and they watched him leave through the adjacent door to the firing range. 

“How was your session?” 

Steve shrugged, “Fine. Sam will want you to come in soon.” 

Bucky sighed. 

“Where’d you go this morning?” Steve asked, trying to keep his voice nonchalant. 

Bucky blushed slightly and replied, keeping his eyes turned downward, “You remember that old haunt, Jack Dempsey’s we went to the night before-“

“The night before you went to basic.” Steve finished, eyes lighting up in curiosity, “Is it still open?”

“No, it’s a new place now, but the sign is still hanging there, it’s just a few blocks down from here.”

Steve sighed, eyes unfocused, gazing upon the memory in his mind’s eye. “That seems like so long ago.”

“Well it was almost 80 years ago.” Bucky teased. 

Steve rolled his eyes and bumped his arm, “Why did you go there?”

“It was kind of an accident, really. I just sorta showed up.”

“It’s a good memory…” Steve looked like he was stealing himself to say something else but stopped.

“What?” Bucky prompted.

“It’s just… most of my memories of you were unbearable after you fell. I couldn’t stand thinking about you cause it hurt so damn much. But now having you back, it like I have to remember that those memories can feel happy again. Does that make any sense?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah. I felt like that when my memories were first coming in after I left Hydra. I could only remember the memories themselves, not the emotional attachment to them. Or sometimes I’d feel emotions that didn’t match up with what I was thinking about or doing, with no memory to be connected with it.” Bucky paused, “I guess we better create some new ones then, and they better be damn happy.” 

Steve grinned, “I think I can do that.” And he pulled Bucky into a kiss. 

  


*_*_*_*_*_*

  


The following week, Steve insisted that Bucky wait to go on a run until he was out of his session with Sam but Bucky rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine runnin’ on my own.” 

“I know Buck, but we might as well go together…” Steve trailed off at the bemused look on Bucky’s face.

“I’ll be fine, Stevie. Go heal your psyche and all that. I’ll be back after.” 

Steve sighed and begrudgingly let him go, entering the room where Sam sat at the desk, scribbling a few notes. 

“Hey Steve.” 

“Sam.” Steve nodded to him, sitting down and Sam sat across from him, smiling expectedly. 

Steve wrung his hands uncomfortably for a moment before saying, 

“I think I’m a bit too attached to Bucky.” 

Sam didn’t say anything but just blinked at him.

“I mean… like more than is healthy.” 

“Go on.” 

Steve sighed, not particularly wanting to go on, but knowing that the only way to get these sessions to stop was to show Sam that he and Bucky were capable of a healthy relationship without so many attempts on Steve’s life, or so little care for his own well being.

“I just… I get real worried when we’re apart that he’ll relapse or he’ll go somewhere and just never come back. Like every time I let him go off somewhere alone I have to remind myself that he’s an adult who is perfectly capable of taking care of himself.” 

“You’re right, he is. But it’s understandable to feel worried about him. You already lost him once. I can imagine you don’t want that happening again.”

“Yeah.” Steve breathed, his heart hammering at the thought, “but I’m also afraid that he’ll get sick of me, because of the way I cling to him, that eventually he’ll just…” Steve swallowed, “Give me up. I mean… I don’t deserve him. I let him fall.” 

It was Sam’s turn to sigh, “I really doubt you let that happen Steve. I think you did everything you could that day.”

“You weren’t there.” Steve snapped, anger and remorse filling his chest like hot lava, it burned his insides, “I couldda done more.” 

“But look, Steve. You can’t keep blaming yourself for something that was out of your control. You did everything in your power to stop that from happening but sometimes things happen.” 

“By ‘these things happen’ do you mean your best friend falls off a train, doesn’t die, but gets captured by the enemy and gets his memory wiped and is then trailed to be a killer. Is that what you mean?” 

“No,” Sam replied patiently, “I mean that in war, there is loss. And if you take blame for every single death the guilt will crush you. Often people need to place blame onto someone when they lose someone they love. So if you want to blame anyone, blame that Zola guy, or hell, blame Hydra who did those horrible things to him. But don’t blame yourself. If you want to get angry at Hydra, then hell, get angry! Use that to fuel your fire to help make Bucky better, make it your motivator, not your Achilles heel.” 

Steve nodded solemnly, looking down at his hands and fidgeting in his seat, “but why do I feel guilty about not being there to stop it? I feel guilty about being in the ice.”

“Why do you think you feel guilty?” 

Steve let out an exasperated huff, “I feel like if I had found a way to get out of the ice and get to him, then I could have taken him away from Hydra before any more harm was done.” 

Sam nodded thoughtfully, “So… do you wish you hadn’t crashed the plane?’

Steve shook his head, “I just wish I could have saved him.” 

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes but he blinked them away furiously. 

“I’m just worried that you’ll drive yourself crazy thinking about what could have been.” Sam replied, “I think it’s a form of survivor’s guilt. Even though you were presumed dead, you were still technically alive. But the point is now, he’s back, and for the most part, he’s doing really well. His memory is returning more and more every day and he is working real hard to make sure he’s good to you. And these are all positives that are happening right now.” 

Steve nodded again and Sam continued, 

“And as far as you worrying about being too clingy, well he hasn’t had a friend in over 70 years; someone who truly cares about him as Bucky Barnes, and I think it’s a safe bet to say he probably loves it.” 

Steve smiled a bit at that, a slight hope growing in his chest like a flickering flame.

They finished their session and Sam clapped him on the back, “You know I’m not a certified therapist but maybe I should be, I’m pretty damn good.”

Steve chucked and shrugged, “you’re alright.” 

They headed to the rec room to see Clint and Natasha holding game controllers, playing Mario Kart while Thor looked on. He turned when he saw them enter and stood, his voice booming.

“Captain! Samuel.” 

“It’s just Sam, Thor.” Sam replied, sitting on the couch beside Clint, whose tongue stuck out in concentration as Natasha lapped him for the 2nd time.” 

“They are teaching me about the world of digital driving.”

“They’re just called video games, Thor.” Clint snorted. 

“After Lady Natasha is victorious over Hawkeye perhaps I will try my hand at this game.” 

“Hey!” Clint protested and Natasha laughed menacingly, ramming into his tiny character on the screen. 

Steve looked on, only mildly interested, checking his watch now and again. After ten minutes Steve stood and told them he was going to shower, and took off to his and Bucky’s floor. In the elevator, Steve asked, “JARVIS, is Bucky back yet?” 

“Not yet, Captain.”

“Will you let me know when he is?”

“Of course.” 

“Thanks.” Steve got off the elevator and stepped into a scalding shower minutes later, closing his eyes under the steam.

“Captain Rogers, Bucky has returned.” 

Steve released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “Thanks JARVIS.”

A few minutes later he heard the door to their bathroom open. Steve didn’t bother to lock it since there was a handprint scanner at the entrance to their floor and Bucky was the only other one to have it. 

“Hey Buck.” Steve called, spotting Bucky’s blurred outline through the glass of the shower door. Bucky waved a metal arm in hello and washed his face in the sink, towelling it down afterward. 

“You want me to join you?” Steve heard Bucky’s sly reply. 

Steve blinked and felt his heart leap. Bucky hadn’t wanted to do anything physical beyond a kiss and Steve was fine waiting, but this seemed like a big step.

“If you want, Buck.” Steve replied, keeping his voice neutral. 

Bucky proceeded to take off his clothes and Steve watched him fold them in a neat pile on the counter before walking towards the shower, his naked outline distorted by the texture of the glass and the condensation. Steve opened the door for Bucky and a gust of steam coughed out, ghosting past Bucky and his hair frizzed a bit at the ends. He stepped in and Steve took a moment to look up and down Bucky’s body. 

He was absolutely gorgeous, nearly the same as Steve remembered. He had broad shoulders, his left moulding into metal and scars marred his flesh all over his chest and torso. There was a particularly nasty bullet wound on his right side of his abdomen and Steve stared at it, his hand ghosting along it.

“Natasha gave that one to me when I trained her.”

Steve looked up sharply at him, “You trained Nat?”

“In the Red Room, when she was younger. I gave her a similar scar a few years after that.” Bucky replied, grimacing.

Steve remembered Natasha telling him that story at Sam’s place in DC all those months back. 

Steve didn’t know how to respond so he went back to shampooing his hair, moving a bit so Bucky could stand under the spray, their bodies brushing against one another in the small space, making goosebumps erupt on Steve’s skin despite the warmth of the water. 

Bucky washed his hair and Steve saw his eyes wander a few times down Steve’s body. Bucky placed a tentative hand on Steve’s hip, drawing him closer so they were both under the scalding spray. Steve liked to take the hottest showers he could, often until his back was beet red, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind the temperature. He looked into Steve’s face hungrily. He grabbed Steve’s chin, pulling him into a rough kiss. Steve grabbed Bucky’s waist to keep his balance and kissed him back, their hip bones grinding against one another as they closed the distance. 

Steve remembered when Bucky would get this way during the war; after a particularly difficult day, he would kiss Steve roughly, grinding against him in the darkness of their tent, the movements silent. Bucky simply needed psychical contact. 

Steve let Bucky press him against the shower wall and kiss him roughly, hands running down Steve’s back and around the curve of his arse. Steve kissed him back, his hands still planted firmly on Bucky’s naked waist. They broke apart and Steve saw traces of desire in Bucky’s eyes. 

“Steve.” He said, his voice a mere whisper over the thunder of the shower, his eyes desperate now, a contorted expression crossing his lined face, “I want you. I  _ need  _ you.” 

“It’s alright Buck. I’m here.” Steve pulled him into a deep kiss and released him. 

“But I want you to be completely ready and in a place where you feel like this is really the best idea. And not a minute sooner.” 

The tightness in Steve’s groin betrayed him. 

“Steve.” Bucky implored, his eyes filling with tears, a frenzied panic on his face now.

“It’s okay. C’mon Buck, I don’t want you to do something you’re not ready for.” 

“Okay.” Bucky nodded, dashing away a stray tear about to fall.. 

Steve pulled him into a hug, “Come on, Bucky. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Steve helped scrub conditioner into his hair and rub soap onto his body. They hugged and pressed feather light kissed to each other’s faces, Steve whispering soft assurances to him. Bucky stepped back, his face closed off again.

  


Steve turned off the water and Bucky got out of the shower first, going back to his own room before Steve got out. He sighed, noting how he was already half hard. He wished there was more he could do for Bucky. But this was the most the ex-assassin had opened up to him, and although it was good that he trusted Steve enough, it scared him. He hated seeing Bucky that way, wanted to wipe that terrified and sad look from his face. 

He got dressed, buttoning up his shirt and pulling on a pair of jeans. He returned to the communal floor and found Bruce and Tony in a heated discussion about an experiment, that to Steve, sounded as though they spoke in a different language. 

“What’s up Capscicle?” 

Steve nodded to them and Bruce stood, “Do you want a cup of tea, I’m going to make one for myself?” He asked Steve. Steve smiled, “Sure Bruce, thanks.” 

Tony’s lip turned into a pout, “Fine Brucie, don't ask if I want any.”

“Because you hate tea.” Bruce responded patiently. Steve didn’t know how Bruce handled Tony so well; must of been his years of meditation. 

“So Cap, is your boyfriend less homicidal? Therapy working well?”

Steve rolled his eyes and sat across from Tony, “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to answer that.”

“Thats right, I almost forgot, you come from a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell, stiff upper lip’ era. No wonder you’re stubborn as hell. My pop was just like you.” Irritation shone in his eyes.

“I just don't see how talking out my feelings is gonna help me solve anything.” 

Tony snorted, “Can’t blame you there, but Pepper says it’s helpful and Pepper is always right.”

“Did you ever go to therapy, Tony?” Bruce asked from the kitchen.

Tony snorted, “Hell no, people tried to drag me there, but the touchy-feely thing isn’t really me.”

Steve shook his head, “And you say I’m stubborn.” 

Bruce came back in from the kitchen and handed Steve a steaming mug of tea, which Steve thanked him for and accepted. 

“I’m beginning to see a pattern here.” Bruce commented, “all of the Avengers would rather suffer in silence than talk out their feelings. Why do you think that is?”

Tony guffawed, “Why don’t we ask Sam, he’s the shrink.” 

“It’s because we think we’re stronger than everyone else.” Steve replied, “We can’t let our guard down, or people will get hurt.” 

Tony chuckled, “Or we just have massive egos and think we can handle everything ourselves. Which we totally can, by the way.” 

“Uh Tony,  _ we  _ don’t have big egos. You do.” 

Tony looked affronted, “I  _ do not _ .”

“You slapped your name onto a tower in the middle of New York and told the world that you’re a superhero.” 

“Are you sure he’s a hero?” Bucky asked from the doorway.

Steve saw him entering the room, dressed and hair still slightly damp from the shower.

“Wow, that's real kind, coming from someone who used to kill for a living.” Tony replied. 

“Watch it or I will start up the killing again.” Bucky growled, a smirk playing on his lips. 

Steve chuckled as Bucky came to sit in the only unoccupied chair across from Bruce. 

“Wait a minute.” Tony looked from Steve to Bucky and back again, “There’s only one shower on your floor. Please tell me you didn’t shower  _ together. _ ”

Steve felt a hot blush creep up his neck and he gulped his tea too quickly, burning his throat and making him splutter and cough.

“Oh gross, gross. No, I did  _ not  _ need that image.” Tony pulled a face and Steve grinned sheepishly. Bucky was giving Tony a calculating look. 

Steve’s phone rang. Steve pulled it from his pocket, quickly, thankful for the distraction. 

“Hello?”

“Rogers? It’s Sharon.” 

“From my apartment?”

“Yeah. We need to talk. Can I meet you somewhere?” 

“Sure.”

“Corner cafe on 13th and Holly. Come alone and I’d prefer if you told no one about this. Be there in 10 minutes.”

“Alright.” Steve hung up the phone and stood. 

“Who was that?” Bucky asked. Tony and Bruce had gone back to their argument but Tony kept shooting Steve quizzical looks.

“Someone I need to meet. I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

Bucky’s eyes flashed with worry and Steve shook his head at him, “Everything is fine. I’ll be back soon.” He planted a kiss on Bucky’s forehead and Tony made a loud retching noise behind him.

Bucky flipped Tony off with his metal hand as Steve left the room. 

  


*_*_*_*_*_*

  


He arrived at the cafe and spotted her sitting outside. The sun arched over the sky, casting a blinding light off the windows of the skyscrapers. He sat down opposite her and pulled off his sunglasses. 

“Hey Sharon. What’s going on?” 

“How about don’t call me that in public.” She murmured. 

He frowned, worry churning in his stomach, “What happened?”

“I’ve been working with those at SHIELD who were left after DC, to rebuild. And I heard a rumour, that as of two hours ago, was confirmed.”

Steve leaned forward.

“What?” 

“Rumlow. He’s alive.”

Steve eyes widened, “I thought he died in DC.”

“I did too. But turns out he survived, and he’s pretty furious that he lost both Captain America and the Winter Solider in one mission.” 

Steve raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I mean he was Barnes’ handler. He told him where to go and who to kill. And since he failed to kill you, Rumlow is out for blood and he’s looking for Barnes.” 

“Dammit.” Steve hissed, then he blanched, “The other day, we took Bucky to the hospital and there was a Hydra agent who tried to get him back. He said something to him to trigger him… Do you think it was Rumlow?” 

Sharon shook her head, tucking a dirty blonde strand of hair behind her ear, “I don’t think so. If it was Rumlow he would have succeeded. He must have wanted to send someone so he wouldn’t be recognized. He’s got a pretty ugly burn on his face.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully, “We need to track him down. I can get the team on it.” 

Sharon shook her head, “We need to do this more subtly than bringing in all of the Avengers. The press would have a field day and Rumlow would see us coming from a mile away.”

“Then I’ll call Natasha.” 

Sharon nodded, “And don’t get Barnes involved in this, Rumlow is dangerous. He could control him again if he gets the chance.” 

Steve nodded, “I know. I won’t get him involved. We have to do this on our own. I’ll have Natasha look into it discreetly.”

Steve got up and Sharon followed suit, “And Steve. He’s calling himself Crossbones now. So make sure you look under that name as well.”

He nodded to her and shook her hand, “Thanks, really. I appreciate it.” 

She looked at him imploringly, “Be careful. I’ll be in touch.” 

  


Steve drove his motorcycle to the nearest payphone. He couldn’t risk talking to Natasha over his cellphone. He dialled her number and waited.

“Hello?”

“Natasha, it’s Steve.”

“What’s wrong?” She asked sharply.

“Private business. Are you out of the tower?”

“Yeah.” 

“Then we need to talk as soon as possible. Come meet me-“

“Don’t tell me where, I’ll come find you.” And she hung up. 

Steve waited barely twenty minutes before Natasha pulled up in a small blue car, “Hop in.” 

Steve got in the passenger's seat not even bothering to ask how she knew where he was and they drove down the road. Steve proceeded to tell the spy everything Sharon told him.

“So if Rumlow wants Bucky we have to get to him first.” 

“Well we know he can’t get into the tower. So as long as Barnes stays put.” 

Steve raised an eyebrow, “You think he will?”

“I think if he doesn’t then we’ll stick him in that Hulk-proof room again.” Natasha countered, “We can’t bring too many people in on this but I think you should tell Sam to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t leave the tower.” 

“I should be there-“

“No, I need you helping me.” 

Steve sighed, “Alright. What’s our first step?”

“I’m going to triangulate his location. If anyone gets a picture of him, sees him move, anything, I’ll know.” 

“Where are you gonna do that? I don’t think we should use Stark’s computers unless we want JARVIS to get wind of this.”

“I’ve got my own tech.”

She drove further out of the city for around 40 minutes until they were on the outskirts of town.  

“Did you text Sam?”

“Yeah. What about the GPS thing on my phone. Tony will be tracking us-“

“Not here he won’t.” 

Steve lifted a quizzical eyebrow but Natasha shook her head and said, “I’ll explain in a bit. And we can’t let any of them get wind of this, because Rumlow is most likely watching the tower, he might even have ears on it.” 

“Okay. What about your GPS?”

Natasha snorted, “You think I would let Stark track me?”

  


They entered the driveway of a small-looking house on the outskirts of town. A few houses were nearby, but this one was almost entirely out of view due to towering trees. She entered a keypad and a thumbprint scanner at the gate leading up to the house and it swung forward to admit them. 

“What is this place?”

“My last safe house, minus the one I have in a location I can’t disclose to you. All my others were compromised when I released my secrets to the public.”

Steve grinned, “You never fail to amaze me.”

Natasha smirked and pulled into the garage. She got out of the car and Steve followed her into the house. 

The house looked like an old cottage transformed into a tech palace. Computers covered nearly every surface, electronics were set up all around the house. 

“Don’t move.” Natasha ordered, holding up a hand to stop him at the doorway. She stepped around something and went to a panel by the door. She entered another code and took a eye-scanner this time. The lights clicked on and the house began to whirl with sound. 

“You’re good now, just had to disable the security system and the trip wire.” 

Steve whistled, “You don’t mess around, Romanoff.” 

“Can’t afford to.” 

She sidled over to a computer and entered her password, talking all the while, “I set up this place so it’s connected to it’s own wifi, completely on it’s own grid. Made to scramble any searches, calls, any kind of activity you could think of, completely untraceable, including GPS on your phone.”

“Even by Stark?”

Natasha grinned, “Oh I doubt he would want to come anywhere near here. He hates anywhere in the suburbs..” 

She logged on and began to type at lightning speed. 

“Make sure to look under the name ‘Crossbones’ too.”

She nodded as Steve wandered around the room before his phone rang. He looked to Natasha.

“Who is it?”

“Bucky.”

“You can answer it, he can’t trace the call. Just for once be a good liar and tell him you got lunch with me.”

Steve sighed and nodded. He hated lying to Bucky.

“Hey ya Buck.”

“Sam’s not letting me leave the tower.” Came an angry voice from there other end.

“Why not?” Steve feigned ignorance.

“He says he wants to keep me for observation! I didn’t do anything! Now he’s got me trapped here.”

Steve listened to him rant before sighing, “He’s probably just doing what he thinks is best for you. Just listen to him, please. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Where are you anyway?” He asked, in what would have sounded like an accusatory tone had Steve not known him better. 

“I’m with Natasha. She wanted to talk about some things so we went and got lunch. Do you want me to bring you something back.”

“No.” Bucky grumbled, “I can’t keep anything down today anyway.”

“Really? Are you feeling alright?”

“Just nauseous. Keep throwing up everything I try to eat.” 

“Ah Buck-“

“It’s fine, not anything I’m not used to.” 

“Still-“

“Just…” Bucky paused, like he wanted to say something more, “Just come back soon.”

“I miss you too Buck.”

“Shut up, ya sap.” 

Steve shook his head and hung up the phone.

“Take a look at this.” Natasha called. 

Steve strode over to her, looking at the screen. Red dots appeared on a map of New York, 

“Here are all the sightings or locations he’s been. But look at this one.” She pointed to a dot in the centre. 

“Is that…?” Steve began

“Your apartment. And SHIELD HQ. He’s been busy since we all thought he died.”

Steve hissed, “But he hasn’t been to Stark tower?”

“Not that I can see from his phone locations and JARVIS would have tracked him down.”

“True.” Steve agreed. 

“So we need to find out where he is now. Can you do that?” 

Natasha nodded, “Just give me a few minutes.” 

Steve’s phone rang again. 

“Sam?”

“Steve, we’ve got trouble commin’ in hot. Stark, Barton, and Banner are out, it’s just Barnes and me.”

“What kind of trouble?”

Natasha leaped up and snatched Steve’s phone, turning the speaker on.

“An unmarked chopper is trying to land on Stark’s helipad.”

“Damn.” Steve cursed, “they can’t get in can they?” 

“I don’t know. JARVIS is gonna try his damnedest to keep ‘em out but I need to know who they are.”

“It’s Rumlow. He wants Bucky.”

“What? I thought he was dead.” 

“So did we.” Natasha explained. 

“We’re on our way, but we’re about 40 minutes.” Steve said, grabbing his coat, Natasha right behind him.

“Can you call Stark?”

“He’s not answering. JARVIS has been trying to call him for a while now.” 

They hopped in the car and Natasha screeched out of the driveway, the information on Rumlow transferred to her phone. 

She gunned it down the highway, weaving around cars. Sam was still on speaker. 

“Have they gotten in?”

“They’re shooting at the glass doors. Rumlow is in the front.” Sam shouted over the sound of spraying bullets.

“Get your wings on, take Bucky with you. You may need a quick getaway.” Steve instructed.

“Got it.” 

They heard noise at the other end and Bucky’s voice, “Rumlow want’s me. We have to get out of here.”

“No, stay in the tower until it’s necessary.” Natasha barked, “It’s the safest place you can be.”

“Not anymore!” Sam yelled and they heard gunfire on the other end.

“Step on it, Nat.” Steve hollered and she hissed, “What you do think I’m doing?”

“Sam? Can you lock yourself in one of the rooms? Ask JARVIS where the strongest doors are.”

“On it!” He yelled. They heard muffled footsteps on the other end and a great deal of yelling. 

“Sam?” Steve asked after a moment, tension filling his voice.

“Apparently there’s a bunker, type thing that’s pretty impenetrable.” 

“Good, go there.” 

They heard more footfalls followed but the sound of someone yelling,

“SOLDIER, HAULT.” 

One set of footfalls stopped. 

A voice in Russian yelled. 

“What did he say?”

“Furnace.” Natasha said, confused. 

“What?” Steve murmured, and Sam cursed loudly. 

“Stop!” Bucky’s voice yelled and they heard more shouting and Rumlow said more words in Russian, ignoring Bucky’s pained shouts.

“What the hell is happening?” Steve hollered into the phone.

“Rumlow just… he said something to Bucky. He’s oh god, it’s doing something to him. I gotta get him out of here.” 

They heard Sam grunt as Natasha swirled the car around passing cars. 

“What?” 

“There are too many of them I-“

Rumlow uttered another word in Russian and there was silence. 

“Give us the phone.” They heard Rumlow hiss to Sam. 

“No.” Sam replied, his voice a mere growl. 

“He’ll kill you if I order him to now. He’s mine again.” Rumlow replied. 

There was a thud and another grunt. Natasha and Steve held their breaths.

“Captain?” Rumlow’s voice issued through the speaker.

“Rumlow.” Steve growled. 

“I’m taking back what is mine.”

“He does not belong to you.”

Rumlow chuckled, “But I helped create it. Therefore I own it.”

“I’m not going to let you do this.” Steve replied.

“And how do you plan on stopping me?”   

“I will track you down and make you pay for what you’ve done.”

Rumlow laughed, “I look forward to it. Now should I take both of them, or just my pet?”

“Leave Sam, it’s not his fight.” 

“Okay, but you’ll have to clean him up. солдат?” 

Bucky’s voice issued from the background, in deep Russian. 

They heard a loud crack and a yelp of pain before the line went dead.

Natasha cursed in Russian and Steve growled in frustration.

“What just happened?” Steve asked. 

“They’re trigger words. Rumlow said them to Bucky and it reset him. He told Rumlow he was ready to comply.”

Steve felt his heart sink.

“I can track him on this.” Natasha waved her phone.

“I’m going to try to call Tony again.”

Steve rang for Tony but he didn’t respond.

“Something is wrong.”

“No shit. And we’re still 20 minutes out.” Natasha hissed, “Rumlow must have known and waited for everyone to leave the tower.” 

“It shouldn’t have been that easy to break in!” Steve hit the dashboard so hard it dented. 

“I know.” 

Steve rang Sam’s phone but it went straight to voicemail.

“We need to split up.” Steve suggested, “I need you to go back to the tower and look after Sam, and you transfer the tracking information to my phone and I’ll track Rumlow down.”

“Steve, you can’t go in alone, that’s suicide-“

“We’re losing time, Nat!” Steve yelled, “I need to find him and get him back. I won’t let them take his memory again.”

“Natasha sighed, “We’re close to the tower, will you just give us ten minutes to check on Sam? We can track them better with JARVIS’ help.”

Steve hesitated and then nodded, “Alright. But 10 minutes and then I’m going after them.”

“You won’t be going alone.” 

They arrived at the tower and took the elevator, JARVIS explaining to them on the way up that he could not manually call up one of the suits because someone had overridden his systems.

“I am terribly sorry.” JARVIS sounded apologetic. 

“Not your fault, JARVIS.” Steve replied as the door swished open. Sam lay on the ground, blood dripping from a wide gash in his head.

They ran to him and  Steve carried him to the couch. 

“We need to stitch this up.” Natasha said, “You good with sutures?”

Steve nodded tensely, “Done plenty of Bucky’s and my own during the war.”

Natasha nodded and Steve ran to grab the first aid kit. Natasha worked on the computer in the communal hall with JARVIS until they tracked down Rumlow’s location. Steve finished the suture and Sam still didn’t stir. 

He took a steadying breath and glanced at Natasha. 

“Two more minutes, Cap and I’ll get his location.” 

Steve nodded and bandaged Sam’s head before placing a blanket over his shoulders.

“Should I call someone to watch over him? Someone needs to be here when he wakes up.”

“Call Wanda and get her down here. I know she’s in the city today.”

Steve called Wanda and she said she’d head over. Steve thanked her and hung up, pacing around the living room as Natasha tapped away on the computer. It beeped and a map appeared.

“Here.” She pointed, “Twenty minutes out.”

“Let’s go.” Steve bounded out of the room, giving Sam one last look before swinging his shield over his shoulder and riding the elevator down. Him and Natasha got in the car, Natasha driving. 

She entered the address and they sped out of the tower. The city whipped by them.

“Where is everyone? No one is answering their phone!” Natasha spat handing Steve a comm, “We’re gonna need backup. We don’t have any intel about how many bodies we’re looking at in there.”

“We’ll be okay.” Steve grunted taking his comm and attaching it to his ear, his jaw nearly closed shut with worry.

They pulled up a block away and leaped out.

“We’re walking right into a trap, you know that?” Natasha asked him.

“Yep.” Steve sprinted forward and Natasha huffed behind him, sprinting to keep up. 

Natasha had tracked Rumlow to a building being renovated.

“Why is it always the abandoned buildings that the bad guys choose?” Natasha hissed, gun drawn and looking irritated. 

Steve’s grip tightened on his shield and they burst open the front doors. Two guards wheeled around, drawing their guns but Natasha had already shot them both. 

“Split up. Keep your comm open. Find Bucky and pull out.” Steve ordered.

“Got it.” 

A group of guards came rushing forward, one squeezed off a shot and nicked him in the shoulder. Steve knocked two of them over with his shield and punched the third, grabbing his shield off the ground and taking a rickety staircase two at a time.

He attacked two more guards and threw them down to the ground where their heads crunched against the concrete. He passed room after room, most of them covered in plastic for renovations. 

Steve heard a voice up ahead, hollering, “COMPLY SOLDIER. I GAVE YOU THE DAMN WORDS, NOW COMPLY.” 

Steve’s blood boiled.  _ Rumlow.  _

He bolted forward, his legs pumping and shield raised. He reached the door at the end of the hall and threw it open, knocking it clean off its hinges. 

Steve stopped dead at the sight before him. Bucky lay, tied to the table with metal handcuffs like the ones Rumlow had tried to use on him in the elevator back in DC. Bucky’s face was barely recognizable under the blood and bruises. His face puffed up and blackened in places. Blood pooled on the ground beneath him. 

Rumlow looked up at him, grinning. 

“Ah Captain. Come to see the sh-“

Steve threw the shield with all his might and Rumlow was too slow to react, it hit him directly in the face and he tumbled backward, unconscious. 

Steve glanced around the room and spoke into the comm, “Nat, I- I found him. 2nd floor, you’re… going to have to help me.” 

He tugged with all his strength on the metal cuffs and the first came free. He shook Bucky’s shoulder but he didn’t stir. Steve’s vision blurred with anger and fear as he ripped the metal cuff off his other arm, throwing it to the ground. 

“C’mon Buck. I swear if you die, I will… I can’t do this again, Buck.” He shook him again and felt for a pulse. It was nearly nonexistent. Steve heard footsteps and saw Natasha enter, her facing blanching at Bucky’s prone form and Steve’s stricken face. 

“Call Banner.” Steve breathed. 

Natasha nodded and Steve lifted Bucky into a sitting position. 

Bucky moaned softly. 

“Buck-“ 

His eyes cracked open and a small smile crept along his bloody lips. 

“S-steve. I d-didn’t let them get to me again. They said those words and they affected me but he said your name and I… I pulled though.” 

“I know, Bucky. Try not to talk, we’re gonna get you out of here.” Steve choked out.

Bucky nodded and his eyes rolled back. His head resting against Steve’s arm and Steve felt for a pulse, placing a hand on Bucky’s ruined clothes, stained in crimson. He found none.

“Bucky…”

“Banner finally picked up. Someone was blocking their signals but he’s bringing a car, he’s 20 minutes out, he’s got a medical team with him.” Natasha said.

“Bucky!” Steve yelled, “He’s not breathing. I’ve gotta keep him alive.” 

He laid him back on the table and  pounded his fist on Bucky’s chest, feeling his ribs crack beneath his hand. He pumped on his chest, giving rescue breaths, tasting blood and bile in Bucky’s mouth. 

He breathed life back into Bucky’s chest, feeling his heart under his hands. He whispered to Bucky, “Stay with me.” 

He brought life back into Bucky, breathing for him with desperation, pounding on his bloody chest. Bruce Banner and a medical team charged into the room with a gurney. 

“Bucky.” Steve breathed as Bruce gently pushed Steve away. 

“We’ll take him from here.” 

“He’s not breathing.” 

“I’ll continue compressions,” Another medic responded, pulling Steve away and taking his place. 

Steve followed Bruce out of the room, turning as Natasha said, “I’m staying here to take care of him” She jerked her head to Rumlow and Steve nodded, barely hearing her. Steve helped carry the gurney down the stairs and into the waiting ambulance.

“We can’t take him to a hospital. He’s too out in the open there.” Bruce said, “We’re taking him back to Stark Tower.”

They screeched off down the street. 

They reached the tower and Steve followed them up the elevator, Bruce hooking Bucky up to a machine and they reached Banner’s lab, wheeling him inside. 

“His heart’s stopped. Start the chargers.” Bruce demanded and a medic grabbed them from a nearby table. He cut open Bucky’s shirt and Steve gasped at the marred flesh beneath, criss-crosses of red all down his chest, most gashes still bleeding. 

They placed the chargers on his chest and set a shock though his body, his back arching. 

“Steve, c’mon. Let them work.” A soft voice said. Steve started and saw Wanda gripping his arm, her tone impossibly gentle. 

“No-“ Steve pulled away, watching them shock him again.

“We’ve got a rhythm.” Bruce announced. 

They worked quickly around Bucky and Wanda pulled on his arm again, “You can’t do anything else for him now. They’ll take care of him.”

The young avenger nearly dragged him out of the room. 

She pulled him to the communal hall where they found Sam sitting up, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“Steve…” 

“You alright?” Steve asked numbly. 

“He will heal, it will just take time.” Wanda smiled sweetly at him, pushing a strand of auburn hair out of her eyes and glanced from Sam to Steve, her expression falling at the look on the super solider’s face. 

“Captain?”

Sam shook his head at her and stood to lead Steve over to the couch, where he sat him down before sitting beside him. 

Sam glanced over at him, his eyes slightly crossed from a concussion. 

“Steve? What happened. Did you find Bucky-?”

Steve seemed to flinch at the sound of Bucky’s name but nodded. 

“How is-“ Sam began but Wanda interrupted. 

“He’s with Bruce now. We’ll find out soon.”

Steve closed his eyes, his muscles tightly bunched and his back stiff. 

Sam put a hand on Steve’s shoulder and he recoiled at the touch, jumping up and beginning to pace.

The two watched him, Sam’s expression filled with worry, Wanda looking equally concerned.

There was a sound of banging outside and they all looked around to see Tony on the helipad, shedding his Iron Man suit and bounding inside.

“What the hell, Stark?” Steve shot at him the moment he entered. 

“I should be asking the same thing.” Tony replied, looking affronted.

“We called you for hours. Rumlow got into your place and took-“ His voiced seemed to die in his throat and he nearly collapsed, Wanda and Sam caught him and pulled him onto the couch. His skin looked deathly pale and the anger that had flared in his eyes when he saw Tony was distinguished by a sickened look.

“They took Barnes and tortured him. We found him just in time.” A voice came from the door, as Natasha entered.  

Steve stifled a small wine and buried his face in his hands. Hearing Sam say weakly, “You get Rumlow?”

“Yep. Sent him with Hill. She’s got him locked up now.”

“How the hell did Rumlow get in?” Tony demanded, “JARVIS?”

Natasha barely heard JARVIS’ explanation as she noticed something red blossoming on Steve’s shoulder. 

“Did you get shot?” She deadpanned, not looking entirely surprised but Wanda gasped.

Steve shrugged and Wanda hissed, pulling his shoulder closer to take a better look with Natasha. 

“Through and through.” Natasha said, “But you’re still bleeding.”

Steve closed his eyes and said nothing. Natasha grabbed the first aid kit they had left to treat Sam and went to work, cleaning and dressing the wound. Steve barely moved or argued. 

“Steve?” Sam’s weak voice came from the end of the couch, nodding to the doorway. 

Bruce stood there, looking tired but relieved, “It looks like he’s going to make it.”

A collective sigh ran around the room like a gust of wind and Steve stood, shrugging Natasha off. 

“How is he?” He croaked, looking wrecked. 

“He’s not out of the woods yet, Steve. He’s lost a massive amount of blood and had quite a lot of brain trauma. It looks like whatever Rumlow did to him has affected his brain chemistry.” 

Steve’s face turned if possible, paler. A deep anger and sorrow filling his blue eyes. He clenched his fists so tight his enormous arm muscles stood out on his tight t-shirt.

“We’re evaluating him now. I don’t think the trigger was successful.” Bruce replied quickly, trying to pacify him. Natasha stood and said,

“He remembered who you were when we saw him, Steve. I wouldn’t be too worried.”

Steve rounded on her, a vein popping in his neck, his eyes wild, “ _ Wouldn’t be too worried. _ ” He repeated incredulously, “No, you’re right, Widow. I should be  _ fine  _ with the fact that I let this happen  _ again. _ ”

“That’s not what she’s saying, man.” Sam began but Steve was breathing ragged breaths, his face twisted in anger and horror, “It’s my fault. I brought him back here, thinking he would be safe, then I left him here alone and they… and I…” Steve’s face turned from red to green faster than a traffic light and he nearly bolted from the room to the nearest bathroom. They heard him retching and Tony closed his eyes, as though that would block the terrible sound. 

“I’m… I should be getting back. The medics probably need a hand.” Bruce replied, glancing sympathetically at the bathroom door before disappearing. Wanda sank onto the couch, busying herself by checking Sam’s bandages. Tony murmured something about checking JARVIS’ diagnostics and nearly fled from the room. Natasha waited a few minutes, watching the bathroom doors and listening for signs of movement. Finally she heard the toilet flush and Steve’s face appeared, still a slight green tinge around his cheeks. 

“Steve-“

Steve shook his head at her and stalked out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall. 

  


*_*_*_*_*_*

  


  Three days later, Bucky could actually sit up in bed without the help from Natasha or Bruce. He watched Natasha talking in a low voice to Sam across the room before Bruce approached him.

“I think we can move you back to your room tomorrow.” Bruce smiled kindly.

“Finally.” Bucky breathed. He glanced around, “Is Steve… where is he?”

Bruce’s face fell, “I… I think he’s debriefing.”

“He’s always gone when I wake up.” Bucky replied, the drugs in his system making his words slur. 

“He’s pretty busy with the paperwork and all-“

“Paperwork?”

“Well, he had to fill out a lot after what happened with the fiasco with Doctor Doom and then the incident in the hospital and with Rumlow….” He trailed off.

“Is he okay?”

Bruce checked his vitals and did not respond.

Sam walked over, “How ya feeling?” 

“Fine. How’s Steve?” Bucky asked quickly.

“Busy. He’ll probably be by in a bit to check on you.” Sam glanced at Natasha before flashing the Soldier a tight smile.

“What the hell aren’t you telling me?” Bucky demanded and Natasha walked over, nodding at Sam. 

“He needs to know.”

“What?” Bucky demanded, sitting up straighter and feeling a wave of dizziness wash over him. He pushed it away.

Natasha folded her arms across her chest and huffed a tiny sigh. 

“He’s having a hard time, James. He thinks it’s his fault what happened to you and he hasn't spoken since you got out of surgery three days ago.”

“At all?” Bucky blinked, feeling his stomach plummet.

Natasha shook her head, “He hasn’t eaten from what I’ve seen. He mostly locks himself in his room, except for when he’s with you.” 

“But I have barely seen him-“

“He only comes to visit when you’re asleep.” Natasha replied.

“Why? I want to talk to him, maybe whack some sense into him!” 

“I think more than that needs to be done.” Sam responded, worry creasing his brow.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked.

“I think if we can’t get him to eat or talk to anyone then we need professional help. I think he needs to get a psych eval done.” 

Bucky gaped at him, “What, so they can just lock him up in some nuthouse? After everything he’s been through, they would never let him out.”

“This isn’t the dark ages, man. Mental hospitals are way better then they were in your time.” Sam replied.

“If I can just get him to talk to me, then we don’t have to go through all of this-“

“But you need to understand that he needs someone objective. All of us are too close to this.” Natasha countered, “Especially you, James.” 

Bucky huffed but didn’t respond. 

“I know someone who was former SHIELD, so he’s familiar with cases like this.”

“He’s not a lab rat, Natalia.” Bucky spat, anger flashing in his dark eyes.

“He would be treated well and with respect.” Natasha responded cooly.

“He won’t go for it, you know that.” Bucky said.

“Then you have to convince him.” Natasha told him.

Bucky huffed, “And you think he’ll listen to me?” 

“I think you’re the only one he’ll listen to.” Replied Sam.

  


*_*_*_*_*_*

  


Steve stepped out of the scalding spray of the shower, his back beet red from being in for so long. He toweled down and heard a voice from the door, making him jump.

“I think that’s a new record. Longest shower ever taken.” 

He wheeled around, saw Bucky standing, more like leaning, against the doorway. He looked a bit pale but overall okay. Bruises still covered his face and he kept off his left leg. His metal hand cupped protectively over his torso where the worst of the injuries were.

“Buck-“ Steve began weakly, walking towards him. He opened his mouth to say something but the words seemed to die on his lips.

“Hey ya Stevie.” 

“Wa-What are you doing out of bed?” 

“Banner cleared me to come back here and get some actual bedrest.” 

Steve nodded, unable to meet his eyes. He then noticed his naked torso and quickly wrapped a towel around his middle. 

“Oh I don’t mind, Steve. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Bucky waggled his eyebrows but Steve didn’t even crack a smile.

Bucky sighed, “Can we talk?”

Steve hesitated then nodded, brushing past Bucky into his room, his back to him as Bucky sank onto the bed, the springs groaning slightly. 

Steve dressed quickly in light brown khakis and a dark blue button-up shirt. He then sat on the window ledge, gazing out onto the city, his face blank. 

“Steve?”

“Mmm.”

“Nat told me you’re not takin’ care of yourself.” 

Steve chuckled dryly, “m’fine.” 

“But you’re not.” Bucky insisted.

Steve sighed, his face quirking in irritation, “I’m fine. You’re the one who was… who almost…Seriously, Buck. Drop it.” Steve wrung his hands together, eyes downcast.

“But I can’t, Stevie. Not until you’re better. You need help.”

Steve shook his head, his face resolute.

“I have to help you, Stevie. Natalia said I shouldn’t be the one, but she has a doctor in mind-“

“No shrinks-“ 

“Steve-“ 

“No.” He said flatly, walking across the room to the door.

“I don’t want to fight you on this.”

“Then drop it.”

“You know I can’t do that. I  _ did _ this to you, Steve. I need to make you better again.”

“Buck-“ 

“I’m serious. When was the last time you ate?”

“Not important.”

“Slept?”

“Not sure.” 

“You’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep doing this!” Bucky hollered, standing and wincing. 

“If that’ll stop me from getting the people I care about hurt, then-“

Bucky placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder eyes wide, “Don’t. Don’t you dare talk about your life like it doesn’t matter.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond but Bucky plowed on, “I… I can’t lose you again.” 

“Neither can I!” Steve spat back, his hands trembling slightly as he turned away. 

Bucky watched his shoulders slump, he crumpled. Bucky caught him, dragging him to the bed,

“Steve. C’mon, wake up.  _ Please _ .” Bucky shook him slightly. His face was ghostly pale, “JARVIS. Get Bruce in here.” 

“He is on his way.” JARVIS responded.

Bruce came in a moment later, followed by Sam and Natasha. 

“What happened?” Bruce asked.

“He passed out. I don’t know how long it’s been since he's eaten or slept. I tried ta talk to him about seeing someone but he wouldn’t have it.”

“Well, he will now. I’ll call Doctor Grissner.” Natasha left the room as Bruce checked his vitals, Bucky hovering nervously over him as Sam sat him down on the end of the bed.

“He’s severely malnourished. My guess is that he hasn’t eaten since we brought Barnes in. And because of his super soldier metabolism he needs twice the amount of food that everyone else needs.” 

Sam sighed, his eyes sad as Bucky clenched his metal fist, “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He growled.

“We’ll get him help.” Sam said, clapping him on the shoulder. Bucky flinched slightly at the touch and watched Bruce work. 

  


*_*_*_*_*_*

  


Steve cracked his eyes open, feeling heavy. His eyes focused on a white ceiling, it’s speckled popcorn pattern disorienting against the vibrant sun rays casting across it.

Steve’s eyes turned to the room’s surroundings. He lay in a small white room, with one window in the corner and a tall door at the other end. It looked like the one that he had woken up in over 2 years ago. He bolted upright in bed and let out a shaky breath. 

A man in a white lab coat entered, smiling kindly at him.

“Hello, Captain Rogers.”

“Who are you?” he asked, feeling his head spin, “Where am I?”

“I’m Doctor John Grissner. You are in a medical facility. I am keeping you here for observation. I thought we may talk.”

“Who the hell brought me here?”

“Ms. Romanoff. Her and the other Avengers were concerned for your health when you collapsed two days ago.”

“Two… that was… where’s Bucky?” Steve made to get out of bed but Doctor Grissner held out a hand, “He’s downstairs, waiting to hear what I have to tell him about your condition.”

Steve scoffed, “I don’t have a  _ condition. _ ”

“And you clearly are not in denial.” Grissner replied, giving him a knowing look that Steve wasn’t too fond of. 

“So what, you’re gonna keep me here in this nuthouse until you think I’m not crazy anymore?” Steve asked, his temper flaring.

“Two things you must understand.” Grissner held one finger up, “One, you are not in a ‘nuthouse’ Captain Rogers, you are in a mental hospital,” he put up another finger, “and two, you are not crazy. You have been through quite the ordeal and it is my job to understand what this ordeal has done to you psychologically.” 

Steve huffed a breath and slouched back in the bed, crossing his massive arms over his chest, face set, “But you won’t release me.”

“Not until I can say that you are mentally fit. Think of your mind in the same way you think of a physical injury. You would not be cleared for the field if you had a physical injury, it is the same with a mental illness.” Doctor Grissner pulled up a plastic chair and sat beside Steve’s bed, “And I need to start by talking with you, getting to know you and what you have been through. I have read your file and gotten the basics. Scrawny boy, turned super soldier, fights in the war, loses best friend, puts plane into the ice, wakes up 70 years later, finds out friend is alive, excreta excreta…” He waved his hand in the air as though brushing Steve’s life story away as an afterthought. “But what I need for you to tell me now, Steve, is you’re feeling surrounding each event. Then I can treat you from there.”

Steve stared at him in shock, “You think I’m just going to tell my feelings and emotions to a complete stranger?”

“Well I would have asked Sam Wilson to do it but he is not qualified and I have been itching to get on your case for  _ months _ .” Grissner replied. He had an almost hungry look in his eyes that made Steve’s skin crawl. He looked like on of those military men who had watched his procedure into the Super Solider, with their appraising eyes and calculated looks. He hated feeling like a specimen. 

“So, shall we begin?” Grissner smiled at him, pulling out a clipboard and pen, poised, waiting for Steve’s response. 

Steve closed his eyes and sighed. The truth was, he was tired of putting up a fight at every turn. Ultron had said he was the man who couldn’t live without war, and to an extent that was true. But he was also a man who picked fights in back alleys if someone looked at a girl wrong. He sought them out, and after all of these years, he felt so tired of fighting. He felt exhausted. 

He just wanted to block it all out and go to sleep.

But he knew he couldn’t protect his friends if he was locked up here. He had let his guard down, shown his weakness, and was paying for it now… but seeing Bucky like that, injured and inches from death, it shook Steve to his core. He shuddered at the thought… if he hadn’t been there on time, if he’d been too late…

Steve took a shaky breath. 

Maybe it was time to stop fighting this and accept his weakness. 

“Alright. I should probably start from the beginning.” 

  


*_*_*_*_*

  


Steve was allowed visitors once every day, for a hour. But each visitor had to be cleared by a team of psychiatrists which meant that Bucky still hadn’t been in to see him, and neither had Tony. 

Natasha and Sam sat with him now. He sat in his bed, covers thrown carelessly off, a sketchbook stretched across his lap. 

“How are you coping?” Sam asked after they had entered. 

Steve didn’t speak much outside of therapy with Doctor Grissner, namely because he was afraid of what may come pouring out of his mouth if he did. With the doctor he could be uninhibited, but amongst friends he had to make appearances. He flashed his best smile and nodded, 

“I’m fine.” Better not embellish or they’ll think he’s lying. They probably already do because no one in the mental health ward could claim they are ‘fine’.

Natasha saw straight through the lie and shook her head disapprovingly, but chose not to comment. “Are they treating you well?” 

If treating him well meant the hours he was forced to sit in this horribly bland room with nothing to do but dwell on the terrible, toxic thoughts rummaging through his head, then yes, he was being treated just fine. 

The problem was Doctor Grissner’s system. He had diagnosed Steve with many different disorders at the moment, never telling him the names of them, but soon nurses would come in with heaping trays of food and wait there until he ate every last bit, refusing to leave before then. And he would eat it, even if it made his stomach churn in disgust. He would usually end up throwing it back up after they left. His stomach felt like it was on fire. Unable to keep anything down.

They couldn’t give him any kind of medicine for his mental health problems, because his metabolism went through him too quickly. 

He knew he should have taken better care of himself when Bucky was recovering in Bruce’s lab, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about his health or life, not when Bucky’s had almost been snatched from him, yet again. 

He was ashamed for letting it get this far. For showing his hand. The team cared about him and that’s why, he supposed, Natasha put him here. 

But the people in this place, the workers, the nurses, the doctors; they didn’t seem to be bothered about what happened to him. He was simply another crazy patient, who didn’t need help so much as a watchful eye. 

He could not leave the room without an escort, making him feel more like a prisoner than a patient. Doctor Grissner had told him this was because he was a danger to himself and to others, in which Steve asked him when on earth had he ever sought to hurt or kill innocents before. Grissner didn’t have an answer for him. 

Sam fiddled with the hem of his sleeve, looking as though he was stealing himself to say something.

“Just say it.” Steve prompted, setting down his sketchbook all together. These days the pages were filled with angry, sharp lines, jagged shapes and dark shadows. 

“You’ve gotta start accepting you have a problem, man. I know it’s not in your nature to admit you need help, but look where you are. Look at all that’s happened to you! Any one of us would be in here, hell  _ should  _ be in here after all the shit we’ve seen. It’s okay to admit you’re hurting. We’ve all needed help Steve. We know what it feels like to-“

“Oh really?” Steve spat, his temper boiling to the surface so rapidly he surprised himself. “Really Sam? So your best friend, the  _ love of your life  _ has come back from the dead after more than 70 years?” He looked at Sam imploringly, but Sam shook his head, eyes wide in shock.

“Steve, no of course not man, but that’s not what I was gonna say I-“

“Then don’t say it Sam. I don’t wanna hear some speech about how it’s all gonna be fine. Because I’ve heard that from every single doctor who comes in that door for the past 7 days.” He pointed at the white door before him, his finger shaking.

He was so sick of it, so sick and tired of people treating him with kid gloves, like he was made of glass. He felt his anger spinning wildly in his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe. He drew an angry breath through his lungs and puffed it out slowly, his heart hammering in his chest. 

He closed his eyes and scrubbed his hand over his face. But when he closed his eyes, the horrors came back to him, as though they were waiting just below his eyelids, like a movie getting ready to start up. One terrible memory after the other. 

And the nurses wondered why he couldn’t get a decent night’s sleep. 

“Steve.” Sam began, his voice uncharacteristically small, “I just want you to know that we’re here for you. In whatever capacity.” 

Steve looked up at him and merely nodded, his face reddening in shame. He shouldn’t have snapped at Sam like that. 

“Thanks Sam.” He mumbled. 

“Barnes told me to tell you that he’s sorry he caused this. Even though I told him it wasn’t his fault.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Steve chuckled humorlessly, “It was mine.” He hung his head and missed the look that Sam and Natasha exchanged.

A small knock came at the door and they all looked up.

“Come in.” Steve said, his voice weak. 

A nurse came in, his eyes kind, holding a dinner tray in his arms. He looked at each Avenger in turn and said, “I wanted to let you know that visiting hours are over.” He looked to Steve and added, “And I have your dinner.”

Steve’s heart sank, his stomach flopping uncomfortably at the thought of food. 

Sam and Natasha stood, Sam gripping Steve tightly on the shoulder, “Thor and Bruce will be in tomorrow. We’ve got a meeting with Hill.”

“Is it about me?” Steve asked.

Natasha nodded, “We need someone to take the lead while you are here.” 

Steve sighed, “One of you should do it.” 

Natasha scoffed and Sam shrugged, “Don’t think we’re up for it. Besides, Hill is the one to make that call.”

“Then she’ll choose Tony.” 

“That was my guess.” Natasha replied, rolling her eyes, a smirk on her lips, “But who knows, he could do well.” 

Steve actually grinned at the thought of Tony trying to lead the Avengers in battle, “He’d blow up all of New York ‘cause he would be too busy making rude comments.” 

Sam chuckled and Natasha shook her head.

The nurse coughed slightly and they nodded to Steve, leaving the room.

The momentary happiness he had felt evaporated as the nurse set down the try on his lap.

“Eat up.” 

Steve felt nauseous looking at it, “I… I’m not that hungry right now.”

“You have to eat.” The nurse insisted, a pitying look in his eyes.

“Well, I’m not hungry.” Steve replied, folding his arms defiantly. 

“Doctors orders.” The nurse sighed, “He wants you to eat more because of what happened last time.” 

Steve felt anger boil to the surface once more, it burned white hot on his insides. He’d had enough. 

“I don’t take any orders from him! He can’t tell me when to eat, force me to eat.”

“Sir, it’s for your own-“

“You have no idea what’s good for me because you don’t know me. None of you in here give a damn to care about anyone in this place. The doctors spout nonsense and I am expected to just grin and bare it? Well I’ve done that my whole damn life and I’m tired of it! I don’t need anyone telling me what I should feel or how I should think or when I should eat a goddamn meal. I had nothing when I grew up, sometimes would go for days on end without eating. I’m used to it and I’m not gonna eat when I’m not hungry, that’s a waste of food. So don’t you dare tell me what to do. You can’t take away those freedoms from me like that.” 

“When you are a risk to yourself and others, then we may have to.” Said a voice from the door. Steve jumped, looking around. Doctor Grissner stood in the doorway, dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt.

“Like hell you can-“ 

“You can leave us.” The doctor said to the nurse, who nodded and made a quick exit.

“Your health is our first priority-“

“And you’ll take away my freedom to ensure it?” 

“No, we merely want you to begin to understand different aspects of your healing process. You stopped eating because you felt guilty of what happened to Bucky. You were punishing yourself because, in your eyes, what happened to him was your fault.” 

Steve opened his mouth to reply but the doctor cut in, 

“And what you need to understand is that punishing yourself will not make Bucky better or keep him out of danger. If you starve yourself you can’t protect the ones you love. You are no use to anyone dead, Steve.” 

“How the hell do you know that? If I were dead maybe not so many people would suffer in the crossfire of my wars. My very presence insights conflict and people who want to kill and hurt me and the other Avengers. And the civilians are treated like collateral.” 

“But Steven, you have saved far more lives than you’ve lost-“

“So what? You think that Bucky is better off with me around?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do. You saved him from Hydra, brought him back from the precipice and made him remember who he was. You have done a great deal for him-“

“But I can’t keep him safe.” Steve protested.

“No one can keep their loved ones completely safe  _ all the time _ . Look at what happened with Tony Stark when they took Pepper Potts. He is one of the richest men alive, a full-blown superhero, but he couldn’t keep her from all harm. You can’t be everywhere at once.” Grissner sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Then why the hell are you keeping me here? I can’t even try to protect him if I’m locked up here…”

“You need to realize that this is a process. You will have good days and you will have bad days. But the point of us keeping you here is to get you well again and teach you coping techniques. Steve, you have been through a great deal. Your suffer is greater than most, because you carry two lifetimes of grief and burden on your shoulders.”

“How long is that going to take? I feel fine, doc. I can walk this one off.” 

“It takes time. You need to first accept you have a problem and have things to work on and then we can start the healing process. But things like Post Traumatic Stress Disorder do not just go away overnight. You must understand that this takes time. And you need to keep your strength up in the process.”

Doctor Grissner pushed the food tray toward him but Steve flipped it off the bed, where it clattered to the floor. He stood abruptly, shaking from head to foot. 

“I don’t want it. You can’t force feed me.” 

“Steve, calm down. You don’t have to eat now, please, sit.” 

But Steve was breathing hard, his gaze unfocused. He pushed past Grissner and wrenched open the door. A long hallway stood before him. No one was around and Steve began to run. He sprinted down the hall and flew down the staircase, his feet bare and cold on the hard floor. 

“Sir, stand down.” A security guard said at the bottom of the stairs, but Steve merely shoved him against the wall, taking off down two more flights of stairs before he entered the first floor. People were milling around the atrium as Steve sprinted across the floor and heard approaching footfalls clattering behind him. He increased his speed before he heard a familiar voice shout,

“Steve!” 

He wheeled around and saw Bucky limping towards him. Bruises still marred his face and he looked paler than usual. Steve stopped dead as Bucky held up a hand to stop the horde of guards that had surrounded Steve.

“Stevie. Hey. It’s okay. You’re hyperventilating. Can you take a deep breath for me?” Bucky asked, placing a hand on his shoulder and his metal hand rested against his cheek. 

Steve sucked in staggering breaths through his mouth, as though his oxygen supply was running short. He hissed as his face went bright red with humiliation. People had begun to crowd around as Steve’s knees buckled and he sunk down to the cold floor. Bucky went with him, still grasping his shoulder tightly. 

“Breathe, it’s okay. Keep your eyes on me. That’s it.” 

Steve felt tears in his eyes.  _ Weak.  _ He told himself, and blinked them away, keeping his eyes trained on Bucky’s dark ones. 

“That’s it. Breathe.” Bucky drew a long breath and exhaled. Steve copied him until he got his breathing under control again. 

“There you go.” 

“Sir, we need to get you back up to your room.” A guard said, looking nervous by the presence of both super soldiers. 

Steve’s muscles tensed under Bucky’s grip and Bucky shushed him.

“It’s alright.” he said to Steve, “Give him a minute.” He snapped at the guard.

Steve’s hands began to tremble as the adrenaline left him, leaking out of him and making him shudder. 

“I’ve got you.” Bucky pulled Steve into a hug and Steve wrapped his arms tightly around Bucky. Bucky winced slightly as his broken ribs were shifted. Steve withdrew quickly, his eyes wide. 

“I hurt you. I’m… Buck… I-“

“It’s okay, m’fine. Come ‘ere.” Bucky tried to pull Steve in again but Steve backed away, that wild look still in his eyes.

“No… I can’t keep hurting you. I… Bucky.” 

“We need to take you back up.” The same guard said, his tone edging on a threat, which considering who he was talking to, was laughable. But Steve merely stood his shoulders sagged, defeated. 

“Steve, no. Please, let’s just talk about this.” Bucky pleaded, looking suddenly lost. But the guards were already pulling Steve away by the arm. 

“It’s better this way, Bucky. Then I can be someplace where I can’t hurt you anymore.” Steve said over his shoulder. They disappeared into the elevator and Steve didn’t look back. 

  


*_*_*_*_*_*

  


“And why exactly can’t I see him?”

“Because, Doctor Grissner said no visitors until he can come to terms with it himself.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Bucky spat, “I should be the one in there, not him. I’m way crazier than he is.”

Sam snorted and crossed his arms, eyes gazing at Steve’s prone form, through the observation deck. They had moved Steve to a more enclosed ward, in hopes that he wouldn’t try to escape again.

“I’m going in there.” Bucky decided, striding towards the door. Sam put an arm out and held Bucky back.

“He needs time and you being there won’t help him.”

“But he doesn’t need to be watched like a zoo animal. We can at least take him home.”

“No, Grissner doesn’t want him doing anything rash again. Not until he can work through some of his problems.”

Bucky huffed, “Why don’t  _ you _ talk to Steve.”

“ _ Because _ ,” Sam sighed, with the air of someone running out of patience, “like I’ve told you before, I’m too close to this. We need an outside opinion that doesn’t have a blind spot when it comes to Steve and his mental and physical health.”

Bucky clenched and unclenched his metal fist, it creaked slightly in the hush of the room. 

“Why is it him in there, though?” Bucky asked again, “It’s my fault.” his face crumpled, “I did this to him.”

Sam clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest again, “Don’t you go down that road too, it’s bad enough having one super soldier wrapped in guilt, I don’t need you going self loathing on us too.” 

Bucky sighed and absently traced the criss-crossed lines on his metal arm, shivering slightly. 

“But you helped me, with the therapy and all. And Natalia and Steve got me back after Rumlow. We need to get Steve back now.” 

“And we will.” Sam assured him, “But first he needs time away from everyone,  _ including  _ you. Grissner said he’ll only be in there a few hours, to cool off. Look, I know you both love each other and help one another, but sometimes you two are toxic for one another.” 

Sam was honest, Bucky gave him that. He sighed and glanced back at Steve, sitting on the bed, arms hugged tight to his knees, gazing out the window at the city below. 

“I still don’t get why they put him in here. Do they really think he needs 8 hour observation just for trying to run away.”

“I think they’re trying to take every precaution.” By the look on Sam’s face, it seemed as though he had some reservations about this situation as well. Steve had been denied visitors for the next three days and only the nurses and Doctor Grissner were allowed in there now. 

“I’m surprised they let me up here at all to see him. They should have known better that I may try to kill all of them.” Bucky growled, looking murderous at they way they were treating Steve. 

“They’re actually trying to  _ help  _ him.”

“By practically putting him in solitary? He’s not a criminal.” 

Sam sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, “You should go home, get some rest.” 

“I was in Cyro for years at a time, I’m good.” 

“Not an excuse, Barnes. You’re still human and you need to be actually awake and alive for when Steve can start having visitors again.”

“And how long until that?” 

Sam shook his head, “No clue.”

Bucky growled, “You’re useless.” He stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Sam sighed and looked back down at Steve before leaving too. 

  


Natasha swept a lock of crimson hair of of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear, walking briskly down the hall to a large office. A secretary sat at the front desk, tapping away on his keyboard. 

“Do you have an appointment, ma’am?” He asked.

“Don’t need one.” She growled and strode past him to the large door in the corner.

“Miss, you can’t go in there you-“

But Natasha had already flung open the door and Doctor Grissner looked up from his clipboard, a look of mild surprise on his face.  

“Ms. Romanaff, what can I-“

“Why the hell did you confine Rogers? He didn’t hurt anyone,”

“Tell that to the guard he knocked out-“ 

“He shouldn’t be treated this way, he needs your help.”

“And I need to ensure my protection when talking with my patients, surely you understand that.”

Natasha bristled, “You selfish prick. You’re only looking out for your own interests. I brought him to you because he needed a professional, someone who understood his line of work and an outside opinion. We needed fresh eyes on Steve and you locked him up?” 

“I didn’t  _ lock him up _ , Natasha. I confined him for his own safety and the safety of others-“

“Bullshit.” She spat, advancing. The doctor didn’t even flinch.

“You know what that could do to him. He has to be with friends, he needs to have visiting hours. He needs to see Barnes.”

“That is not your place to decide. He is my patient and has been the moment you brought him through these doors. I will treat him as I see fit.”

“And what about his rights as a patient? He needs to have certain freedoms. This isn’t the dark ages, John. You said it would only be for 8 hours and it’s been three days!”

“Captain Rogers gave up his rights when he nearly collapsed again from starvation three days ago, after his little jog around the facility. He hasn’t been eating. He’s been starving himself. We had to start an percutaneous endoscopic gastrostomy to feed him. The tube attaches directly to his stomach. We have to give him back the calories he is loosing. This way, we can look after him and keep a better eye on him. Monitor him for any other signs of trouble. Try and reel him back in.” 

Natasha froze, her heart sinking. Steve still wasn’t eating. 

“And you think having no contact with any of his friends, his  _ support,  _ will benefit him?”

“I think he needs to work out some things with me on his own. All of you will only confuse him. He needs clarity, not a hand to hold.”

Natasha glared at him, “And that is the only solution?”

“For now.”

  


*_*_*_*_*_*

  


The blank wall glowered at Steve. He glared right back, forcing his gaze further into it, making out grotesque shapes from the smudges of paint. The window was too colourful to look at. He didn’t want to see the bleeding sunset nor the weeping sky. Nor the puffs of smoke that rose from nearby factories, darkening the sky a dull grey. 

He couldn’t… didn’t want to make meaning out of those shapes, those wild colours of the street below him, with people milling about, criss-crossing through their daily lives; without so much as a glance toward anyone else. They merely floated along, impervious to the others around them, absorbed in their own little worlds.

He simply couldn’t look out the window, so elected to stare at the wall, it’s canvas plain and easy to understand. 

Three days he’d been in here. Three days he’d been forced to eat, this damn tube sticking out of his stomach. He watched as the fluids went in, considering ripping it out every passing minute. But he didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on Bucky’s face if he did. 

Doctor Grissner came in twice a day to attempt to start up a conversation with him, telling him that this was for the best and he needed to be healthy and fit so they could start working through his problems. 

But his problems didn’t need working through, they needed to be tucked away, in the safety of his mind, far away from his pestering consciousness. 

But his solitude forced the thoughts to the forefront of his mind, slowly picking away at him until he felt he was going to burst from the pressure of it. 

The memories of Bucky’s broken body, lying on that table. 

The thoughts of Bucky’s body falling from the train, arm outstretched to Steve as the cold wind cruelly whisked him away into the wintery hell below.

The ice seeping through his skin, paralyzing all thoughts, the cold devouring his insides and eating him whole, until he could think of nothing else but the cold. 

The memories were toxic, clouding his brain and suffocating his lungs. He felt white hot smoke fill his head, clouding his eyes and forcing tears down his face. He gasped a short breath and covered his mouth with his hand. 

They were watching him, observing his destruction. He wondered vaguely if they were enjoying it. 

He felt the hot tears streaming down his face, he gasped for air, feeling like an asthma attack all over again. Where was Bucky to bundle him in his arms and breathe with him? 

He couldn’t think of Bucky, because then he saw him bleeding and bruised, on the brink of death again because of his mistakes. 

Because he failed to protect him, again. 

He let out a low sob and sank to the floor, beside his bed, curling in on himself and attempting to take shuttering breaths, but they seemed to catch in his throat, too tight to let air pass. 

_ How could he keep doing this?  _

_ How could he do this alone?  _

_ Where was everyone?  _

  


As if on queue, a metallic smash echoed around the quiet room and the door at the end of the hall flew off it’s hinges. 

Bucky stood in the doorway, raven hair falling in dark curtains around his eyes, metal fist clenched. A fiery anger plain on his face.

Steve shuttered a breath and curled further in on himself, his face red with humiliation. Bucky couldn’t see him like this. 

Like a failure.

So unlike the Captain America he was expected to be.

“Stevie?” Bucky nearly whispered, the fire distinguished from his eyes, replaced with sorrow.

The sound of Bucky’s pet name for him snapped him in half. He let out a low sob and his head fell onto his knees. He curled tightly in on himself and attempted to get his crying under control. 

_ His weakness.  _

“Hey, shhh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Bucky jogged to him and kneeled down beside him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. Steve hated that he leaned into the touch. That he needed it  _ so  _ badly. 

“Can I hold you?” Bucky asked.

Steve paused, his heart hammering and his breathing jagged. He needed to be held, but what would he be if he couldn’t pull it together? How was he expected to lead, to take care of anyone if he couldn’t take care of himself?

He gave a tiny nod, head still crammed between his knees, seeing only the slits of the tile floor beneath him. 

Strong arms encased him and pulled him in. A warm body pressed against his side and Steve allowed himself the small comfort, nuzzling closer to Bucky like he was the only source of heat and comfort left in the world. And Steve chuckled dryly, because perhaps he was. 

“What?” Bucky asked him, hair tickling Steve’s wet cheeks as he looked up.

“Why did you come here?” Steve hiccuped. His voice groggy from disuse. His breaths still shuddered, but slowed slightly. 

Bucky snorted, “‘Cause I love ya, punk. Always have.” 

Steve felt his stomach jolt, in both joy and fear. Because he would fail Bucky, eventually. He would drop the ball and get him killed. He shouldn’t be here.

Steve began to pull away slightly, closing in on himself again but Bucky raked his flesh hand through his hair and his metal hand behind his neck, massaging gently.

“Shhh. I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot. I’m sorry. Please, Steve. Let me just hold you.” 

Steve nodded again and leaned his head against Bucky’s shoulder as Bucky encased him.

The trembling slowed until a wave of exhaustion swept over him. Steve pulled away slightly from Bucky and looked at him, his face reddening with humiliation again. 

“Steve, it’s okay. Let’s get you home.”

“Home?” Steve questioned.

“Yeah, man.” Came a voice from the door. They turned to see Sam and Natasha standing in the doorway. “Turns out this place isn’t great for you.”

Steve stood, denying Bucky’s extended arm for help.

“Doctor Grissner?” 

“Told him his services were no longer required.” Natasha said coolly, a smug smile playing on her lips.

“But, he was right… I’m not… I can’t save any of you if I’m… I’m not well.” He hung his head, saying the words out loud felt like a curse, like some great confession.

“And it’s okay to not be okay sometimes, Steve. I mean, look at me.” Bucky said, gesturing to his frayed hair and dark circles under his eyes. Plus his bruised arms and face, fading slowly.

“We’re gonna get you out of here, though.” Sam said, “Go someplace where they won’t treat you like this.” 

Natasha nodded, “I’m sorry, Steve. He didn’t used to be like this. I don’t know what’s changed but I’m not a fan of his new method of help. We had a… disagreement.” 

Steve could imagine what kind of disagreement they had but decided not to picture it. 

“I don’t want to hurt any of you.”

“And you wont.” Sam replied, “if you’ll let me, I can keep doing sessions with you and we can get you back to the tower.”

“Fury and Hill have already agreed to give you time off-“ 

Steve opened his mouth to reply that he was fine and could still help out on missions but Natasha plowed on, “So that you can have time to recuperate and take care of yourself. And let us take care of you for once.” 

Steve wanted to protest, that he was fine, but he knew that was a lie.

“Alright.” he sighed, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him once more and he swayed slightly.

“But first, let’s get you back. Tony’s got a car out back.” Sam said, leading them out of the room, passed the demolished door. 

Steve stepped past it, thinking longingly of his bed in the tower. 

He swayed again and Bucky grabbed his arm, “When was the last time you slept?” 

Steve racked his brain. He hadn’t been able to sleep in that empty room, alone with his thoughts to torment him. And anytime he tried to sleep, his mind would be fogged by nightmares that startled him awake in a cold sweat. Steve shrugged at Bucky and leaned against his arm.

“C’mon.” Bucky helped him from the room and put a hand on the small of his back. 

They walked to the elevator and rode it to the first floor, Steve feeling on alert again.

“They said they need to keep me here, that I’m a danger to others. I hurt those guards back there and-“

“And they hurt you, Steve. I know what bad treatment looks like and that-“ He jerked his head upward, “Isolating you and forcing you to eat, that’s not how they should have gone about this.” 

Steve glanced down at the feeding tube, bulging under his shirt and made to pull it out but Bucky’s hand stopped him. 

“Wait. Just- let someone do that for you, please.” 

Steve looked into Bucky’s pleading eyes and sighed, nodding. 

They took a back door and saw a black car waiting for them. Tony sat in the passenger seat and a kind faced man sat in the drivers seat. He grinned at them as Natasha opened the door for Steve. The driver turned and nodded to them, “Happy to meet you,”

“He really is.” Tony replied, tapping away on his tablet, “This is my personal security guard slash chauffeur, Happy Hogan.” 

“Back to the tower?” 

“God yes.” Steve breathed, running a hand over his eyes and Bucky chuckled, squeezing close to Steve so both Natasha and Sam could fit. Sam pressed against Bucky’s metal arm and huffed impatiently, “Would you move that thing?”

“No.” Bucky deadpanned, putting his flesh arm around Steve and chuckling at the unamused expression on Sam’s face. 

The car drove off and Tony turned to look at them.

“So, Spangles. A thank you would suffice from rescuing your damsel ass from that tower they locked you away in.”

Steve didn’t reply but blinked at Tony, his expression stony. 

“Geeze, sorry okay.” Tony replied, “Don’t go all Captain America on me, that’s the face you give me when you’re about to lecture me on the importance of not jaywalking.”

Steve merely shook his head and closed his eyes. 

  


*_*_*_*_*_*_*_ 

  


**Two Weeks Later**

  


The clouds gathered in inky black as they stretched over the disappearing sun, swallowing up the day. Eventually, the dark clouds parted and the moon shone brilliantly bright despite the glaring lights of the city. The full moon’s face seemed to leak with light, tingeing the dark storm clouds a greyish white. 

Steve leaned against the railing, watching the progression of light to dark, inhaling the night’s air, taking it in. The city tasted cool on his parted lips, his skin erupting with goosebumps as a draft swept over him. 

A flash of silver caught his eye and he turned to see Bucky striding toward him, his face and dark hair becoming less and less visible as the day was devoured by the night. 

“You’ll freeze out here.” 

Steve shrugged, turning his gaze back to the glistening moon, heaving a great sigh. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked him, a warm arm wrapping around his middle. 

Steve kept his eyes fixed on the sky and breathed, “I don’t know… sometimes… sometimes I feel like I’m falling apart. And other times, when it’s quiet and I’m not stuck in my head… I feel like I can breathe for the first time.” Steve puffed air through his lips and watched it swirl in the cool breeze before disappearing. 

Bucky did not reply but turned his eyes upward as well. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Steve asked, leaning in slightly.

Bucky hummed, “You think the sky’s changed since we were kids?” 

“I think it takes more than 70 years to change the stars, Buck.” 

“But it looks different somehow.” 

“I sure as hell know we’ve changed.” Steve nearly scoffed. 

Bucky looked into Steve’s eyes, the orb of the moon reflected back at him. 

“And do you… like this change?” Bucky questioned, his voice hushed, his question almost ingested by the sounds of the city below. 

“I like it just fine Buck.” Steve replied, his mouth tugging into the tiniest of smiles, one of the first he had cracked in weeks. 

They stood on the balcony, the moon reflecting on their silhouettes, folded together in an embrace. 

Perhaps Steve wasn’t perfect, but for now, he would let the night take him in, and wait for the dawn to break. 

  


  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed it. My next part will be much happier, I promise. I just had to get this out of my system.
> 
> Cheers!


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